I Don't Really Know
by CookieTower
Summary: ...how to title this. Heh. Oh well. Alfred turns 235 today but he's too depressed to celebrate it like usual. What could be the reason? 'Who' could be the reason? Happy Birthday America! USCAN


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my shitty writing.

**Warnings: **Out-of-Characterness (especially for America)... and some other things you should watch out for?

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If you ask the United States of America what he wanted for his birthday, he would say more years of liberty and independence for his citizens. If you ask Alfred F. Jones what he wanted for his birthday, he would just smile and say: "I will never get it anyway."

As the personification of the United States, he has become famous for throwing a party every year. Every year, his house would be crowded by his fellow nations and would be a wreck by dawn. Every year, he would order a gigantic, neon-colored cake that would be part of the mess as well. Every year, he would be drunk with his friends and party all night long. Every year, he would end up in his bedroom with some random nation.

He thinks he has slept with almost everyone throughout the years but for some reason, he just can't find that one person that he can truly do the act with knowing that it is not just hook up. He could never call having sex _making love_. Perhaps… it is not because he hadn't found that person. Perhaps it's the thought that he **can't **have that person.

Unlike the usual superhero genre, he doesn't get the girl – guy, rather.

That is why when he actually manages to sleep with that person a few years back, he took advantage of that night and relished every moment. He tried so hard not to moan that person's name intimately. Instead, he caressed the other's body, memorized all the dips and contours, kissed the man as long and often as he could. He fought back the urge to say 'I love you', 'be mine' or 'please look at me'…

"Only me…" Alfred murmured. He just knew that he can't have **him**. He has lived long, fought for years. When his people clamored for an invasion, he saw the light in that that maybe he can convince him. Maybe he can have him. But the other man's eyes gave off something he'd rather not receive. He'd gladly be just how they are but he cannot have him hate him. Anything but despise him.

It was hard enough when they woke up and he had to blame his actions on the alcohol. It was difficult to pretend he didn't accidentally whisper 'I love you'.

And now here he was in his kitchen, moping on his counter, drowning himself in liquor at nine o'clock in the morning. He didn't feel like hosting a party this year so he sent of letters and e-mails saying there is no gathering in his house this year. Some were surprised that he isn't having one; he just laughed obnoxiously and purposely irritated the stunned nations to avoid further questions. He was too depressed to talk about it. Alfred is convinced that no one would ever understand why. Not even his father-brother figure, England, would understand but that old man was always like that so it isn't much of a shock.

**He **would understand. **He** always did. But how could he tell him when he is the exact reason why he couldn't hold a party this year?

"Package for Alfred Jones!"

The nation choked on his drink and started coughing. He cursed and placed his bottle on the counter and went for the door. He plastered on a fake smile before meeting the delivery boy who was looking a bit haggard at the amount of boxes for the man in front of him. Alfred laughed at the boy and ended his misery by signing the paper and taking the boxes. The boy thanked him and smiled brightly.

"Have a great Fourth of July, sir!" the boy said and turned around towards his van, off to deliver more things to people.

Alfred just nodded and went back inside. He brought his packages to his living room where several boxes are also settled. He sighed at the growing pile as he stacked them neatly next to the previous ones. He was going to have fun opening these. He enjoyed opening them every year – looking forward to the hidden goodie inside – but he knows that the one thing he wants will never be inside one of the boxes.

It's illegal to send a person via shipping, right? Otherwise, like he has told himself time and time again, he can never have him.

After studying the newly arrived boxes and checking who they were from he returned to the kitchen and slumped on a high stool again. He grasped his drink again and downed it all in a few seconds. He hadn't received his gift from that person yet. Or maybe he isn't getting a gift from him this year? Besides, that person must be busy with someone else. He is not sure but he is not in any condition feeling up to finding out. Heroes don't want to get hurt too.

Yes, he is too upset to confront **him **if he is already seeing someone. They were very close so it wouldn't be so bad to ask but he can't risk it. What if he asks why? What if he slips and confesses? What if he rejects him? What if he ends up hating him? He just can't risk it so he keeps quiet. He'll find out during the next conference…

Yes, if he's _lucky _enough to catch them making out – again.

He doesn't mean to sound so bitter. He can't help it. Even as a selfless hero, he will act selfish once in a while. What's so wrong about wanting true love? Don't most of us do? He has dreams like any other human in love. For his birthday, he wants to wake up next to his beloved and end the day next to his beloved. It's pretty simple, right? Yet eternal life was cruel to him thus he is left to stare from afar, unable to hold him in his arms.

And yet this _other _guy is given too much fucking luck that he could date **him**. Hadn't he been with **him **long than that guy? Though they can't be together, he doesn't understand how they can be so close to each other in a short span of time. They don't even have a good history together as nations – hell, he has even more history with that guy than **him**. Why?

"Why can't you be single at least?" Alfred muttered and opened another bottle and started drinking from it. "Why did you have to choose him? Why did you have to choose anyone?"

He groaned in frustration and flipped out his phone. It has been vibrating in the back pocket of his jeans for quite some time now and it was starting to annoy him. He glared at the screen screaming cheery birthday greetings from his fellow nations and other acquaintances. He scrolled-down to the very last message and felt his chest constrict a bit. He opened the message and read it slowly. A smiled played on his lips and his rage from earlier started to die down a bit.

It was a message from **him**.

**He **was always the first to greet him a happy birthday. Whether it was a call or text, he was always first.

He read the message again and gave a bark of laughter after noticing the sender's signature:

..._rthday!_

-_Maple Daddy_

For the first time that day, he grinned sincerely. He began typing a response to the message that was apparently sent at three in the morning.

_lol at ur sig, "Maple Daddy". Hahahhahaha_

He pressed send and in a few moments his phone sang his national anthem. Without a second thought, he answered the incoming call with a chirpy voice.

"What's up, Mattie?"

"_Don't ever tell __**anyone **__about that signature."_

"Aww~ But I think it's cute! I mean, it's like you're trying to act manly but you're not 'cause you look like a-"

"_Don't even begin, Alfred. I am perfectly aware of my-_"

"See! You even sound like a mom."

There was silence after that and Alfred started to feel uneasy. To hide his lack of comfort, he laughed at full volume and his heart nearly stopped when he heard sweet mirth from the other end of the line. He swallowed rather loudly and opened his mouth to speak again.

"Are you busy right now?" he asked, voice expertly hiding his nervousness. When there was no immediate reply, he continued: "I mean, it's kinda boring not doing anything on your own birthda-"

"_Hey Birdie, where should I put these?_"

There was some fumbling at the other end of the line with Matthew seemingly hissing at the other person there to be quiet. Alfred almost wanted to end the call and throw the device away from him. So Gilbert was with him today…

He doesn't need an answer.

"_S-Sorry about that. Are you still there, Al?_"

He faked a laugh to hide his jealousy. "Yeah, I'm still here. I was just gonna ask you if you want to come with the boys and me," Lie. "'cause I don't want to leave my little brother out," Lie. "But it looks like you're already busy with _someone_ else, huh?"

He laughed again, loud enough to make anyone think he was all right. He still conversed with Matthew normally. When he heard Gilbert's voice again, his chest tightened as well as his grip on the phone. He heard his love's voice scolding at the other man irately. Gilbert just laughed and there was an annoyed grumble. Alfred could very well imagine what was happening there: Gilbert playfully messing with Matthew's soft, curly hair. Matthew blushing furiously at the albino, trying hard to get the other to stop and was that a kiss? Alfred rubbed and his eyes harshly and sniffled silently.

He had been crying all this time.

"Hey, Matt, I gotta go now so bye!"

"_Alfred! wai-_"

He didn't wait for Matthew to continue and ended the call. This time he really threw his phone and the poor thing is now on the tiled floor of the kitchen; pieces scattered everywhere, broken like he was. Alfred folded his arms on the counter, buried his face into them and sobbed. This is perhaps the first time he cried like this. A lot would probably be shocked to see him like this, what with his ability to be as dense and insufferable as no one else but him (and Italy, maybe).

All the other times he was this depressed, he would go to a local bar and drink the night away. Now though, he feels that alcohol won't be the best medicine.

He runs to his bedroom and shuts the door. He closed his curtains and dropped onto the bed. He clutched a pillow close and just cried. Crying was such a reliever right now; he doesn't know anything else that could help him. He was so angry, hurt and clouded.

"Happy b-birthday to m-me," he choked out. "Ha-Happy birthd-day to m-me…"

He continued his singing as his sorrow slowly introduced him to sleep.

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'_Bring on the fireworks!_'

'_Let's get this shit started before I starve to death.'_

'_Would you stop thinking about the food?'_

'_The cake looks good~'_

'_Do not touch the cake!'_

_Alfred slowly came to his senses and noticed he was seated on something. He started panicking, seeing as he was practically blind. Soon, a pair of hands landed on his shoulders and shook him slightly. Not only is he lacking sight, but he also could not move his arms._

'_Chill man, we're not gonna hurt ya. Sorry 'bout the blindfold, by the way.'_

'_What's happening?' the nation demanded and glared at the black expanse he could see. 'Untie me!'_

'_Not yet,' another voice answered. 'You need to be enlightened before we can let you go.'_

'_The fuck?' Alfred snarled, trying to break the bonds tying his wrists together. For some reason, his abnormal nation strength was not working. 'Let me go. Now.'_

'_We will.' The second voice chirped almost teasingly. 'First, tell us what day it is!'_

_Alfred growled, not really wanting to remember what day it was. 'July four.' He snapped._

'_And… what's being celebrated today?' the first voice added._

'_Independence day.'_

'_What else?'_

_Alfred tried to rip the bonds again but to no avail. It seems he had to play along to know what the hell was going on. But really, he'd rather forget what today was. 'The Fourth of July. The US' 235__th__ year of independence. My birthday.' He said through his teeth._

'_Good! So…' the first voice started, tone becoming serious. 'Any idea why you're so fucking emo about it?'_

'_Why should I tell you?' said Alfred. This was really starting to freak him out. 'Why do you even care?'_

'_Well, if you're nation is too sad to have his usual party, of course we'd be worried.'_

_Alfred was silent for a moment and gnawed on his lower lip. After a few more moments he asked: 'Who are you?'_

'_We're your states. This is probably the first time you've talked to us.' The second voice answered. 'You started crying your heart out so we kinda got concerned. This isn't like you, after all.'_

'_My states? You are one of the United States?'_

'_Yeah, yeah. Enough about that.' The first voice said irately. 'What's wrong?'_

_Alfred shook his head, 'It's nothing.'_

'_Oh, so drinking at 9am, murdering your phone and crying like a chick is nothing.' the first voice snapped. 'Really, America, tell us. Though we know everything that has happened to you, we don't know what's in your head.'_

'_I- I just don't want a party this yea-'_

'_Alfred F. Jones, please.'_

_The nation inhaled sharply. He can't escape. 'Fine. I didn't host a party because I don't want to get hurt. I don't want to see the person I love with another.' Alfred felt tears roll out of his eyes but persisted, 'I don't want to see him look so happy with someone else. I don't want anything to remind me that I can't be with him. That I can never confess to him. That he will never ever look my wa-'_

'_Whoever gave you the idea that you can't be with him?'_

_Alfred opened his mouth to argue. No one told him that he can't love Matthew. No one told him that he can't be with Matthew. No one ever forbid him. Where did it come from then? Wasn't it from own experience? But his brother never did tell him that he resented him. It was all from the fear of rejection, hurt. What is this?_

'_You don't even know what the other thinks, do you?' a new voice spoke. 'God, sometimes I just want to whack you in the head! But no~ I can't even touch you.'_

'_Just- What are you people?' the nation asked dumbly as if he was not thoroughly convinced of what he had just heard._

'_It can't hurt to try and confess, ya know. But I guess it might really hurt but- Shit, I'm not good at this!'_

_The second voice let out an exasperated sigh and laughed. 'Whatever. Alfred, many have given you boundaries throughout the years and from what I remember, those never stopped you. Why will your __**own**__ anxiety stop you now?'_

_The nation remained quiet and let the words sink in for a while. He has been limiting himself all this time. God he was so stupid. So he started to laugh, louder and louder and soon the voices joined him until his ears could only hear comforting mirth and amusement. Who'd ever thought talking this out will help him?_

'_I'm sorry for worrying you guys.' Alfred finally stated after calming down. 'Thanks.'_

_There was a cheer and another voice shouted: 'A'right! Bring on the fireworks!'_

'_Idiot! Don't point that here!'_

_Alfred blinked behind his blindfold at the sudden sermon. When he heard screaming, he became wary of his position. Then he felt heat emanating from his side…_

'_Fuck! Run, bastards, run!'_

'_H-hey!' Alfred shouted, 'Don't leave me here!'_

'_Shit, shit, shit-'_

…

…

"-Shit!"

"Somebody, get the bloody hose!"

"Well, this wouldn't have happened if _someone _didn't bring sparklers inside, _non_?"

"Would you all please stop arguing and focus on not getting Alfred burned! ?"

Alfred immediately sprung out of his bed. He threw his apparently blazing blanket down on the floor and screeched for the fire extinguisher. The red object was thrown at him and he quickly directed it at the fire. The flames slowly died down to a lump of burnt cotton and everyone in the room released a sigh of relief. Alfred threw the extinguisher to some direction and dropped his butt on the bed behind him. He checked his room for any damage. Fortunately, he only lost his favorite blanket… his… favorite blanket?

"Nooo! My blankie- oof!"

Alfred was tackled into a frantic embrace to which he blushed. In his arms was a sniffling blond fervently asking if he was okay, was he hurt, did he burn himself…

"S-should we t-take you to a ho-hospital? Just wait, I'll go call for an-"

"Mattie, relax. I'm fine." Alfred chuckled, ruffling his brother's hair fondly.

"Are you s-sure? We could have y-yo-"

"Really, Matthew. Please, don't worry." He smiled. He heard a cough and scanned his room. Near the door was several other nations staring at them uncomfortably. "What are you all doing here?"

"Just get changed and get your arse down stairs, lad." Arthur muttered and left the room. Francis followed with a creepy laugh coming out of his mouth as the rest followed. Matthew loosened his grip on Alfred and pushed himself off of his brother to stand.

Matthew went for the door as well and left but not before saying: "W-we'll be waiting down stairs."

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He was greeted by the sounds of firecrackers and music once on the first floor. Alfred's mouth hung open in awe with all the party food and props arranged on a few tables on his backyard. Nations were busy chatting with each other, playing with sparklers, and launching mini-rockets up into the sky. He stepped on the grass and all eyes landed on him. A note from a piano resounded and the tune of the happy birthday song soon made itself known. The nations started singing and a large cake (that look pretty normal for once) was pulled in. He stepped towards the cake and smiled – a party was inevitable after all.

"Make a wish." said Matthew who suddenly materialized on his side. Alfred laughed and closed his eyes.

He already knew what to wish for.

The final note ended and the 235 year old nation blew the fire off of the candles on the cake. Everyone cheered and slowly returned to their previous activities.

"Why?" he asked to the smaller nation beside him. "Did you plan all this?"

"I- well…" Matthew trailed, a cute blush tainting his cheeks. "I did. B-but, everyone helped! I mean, I just wanted to celebrate y-your birthday like we always do… uhm…"

He laughed his usual laugh and some rolled their eyes at the irritating tone. Matthew only flushed darker and punched his brother's arm as hard as he could. Alfred threw his arms to Matthew and pulled him into a tight hug. When he let go, blue eyes hit red almost immediately.

"Happy birthday, kid." Gilbert greeted half-heartedly. "You're such a lucky bastard, you know that? And oh, here's your gift from the awesome me!"

The Canadian glared at the ex-nation, "Gilbert-"

"But remember, if you hu-"

"Gilbert!"

"Oh c'mon, Birdie. It's not like it'll change anything. But really American moron, if you hu-"

"I'm just gonna assume that you and Mattie are not dating. Okay?"

The Canadian and Prussian turned their attention to the American. Apparently Alfred hadn't caught on the suggestiveness of the conversation. Gilbert harrumphed and mumbled something about insensitive brats and Matthew just sighed and smiled. The Prussian left the two a few minutes later and the new gift received reminded Alfred of something.

"You haven't given me anything yet!"

"I-I a-a-arrange the p-party for you, d-didn't I?" the Canadian stuttered out with a nervous laugh. He stopped laughing when Francis began approaching the brothers, dragging a furious Englishman with him and a large red bow in hand.

"'ere _Mathieu_. Let papa help you~"

"Frog, leave the boy alone!"

"Hmm? Weren't you the one to suggest this?"

"I was being sarcastic, you poof!"

"You sounded quite serious, right _Mathieu_?"

"I said leave the boy alo- Where are they?"

"Ohohonhonhonhon~"

"Shut up, frog!"

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The brothers found their way to the roof top without letting anyone follow them. The American was quite confused now and he'd love to know what was really going on. Though he is also thinking of telling Matthew of his feelings once and for all, he wants to know Matthew's deal first… But then again…

"Hopefully no one will come up here…" The Canadian whispered mostly to himself until his brother swung him around to face him.

"Mattie," Alfred began, trying not to fawn over how adorable Matthew looked at the moment. "I need to tell you something."

"O-okay but let me give your… g-gift first?"

Alfred blinked once and tilted his head slightly in puzzlement but nonetheless nodded for the other blond to continue.

"C-could you close your eyes?"

"What?"

"Please, just close them!"

"Okay…" Shut. Five seconds. Fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds. Fifty seconds. One minute. Two minutes. Three- "Mattie! Hurry u-"

Soft lips crashed onto his. His eyes popped open in surprise and unhurriedly closed again as he deepened the kiss. It was a sweet and passionate kiss. Not really that needy kind that he thought he would do if ever Matthew said yes. Even the July sky seemed to agree with what he's feeling – what with all the clichéd fireworks in the background.

He doesn't need to ask. He got his gift anyway.

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I don't like how I wrote this... It's... I don't know... different. :|

But I hope some of you liked reading this... Happy Fourth of July! Don't go all out on the fireworks, okay?


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